


hiraeth in this heart of ours

by winterscaptsam



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - World War II, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, POV Bucky Barnes, Period Typical Attitudes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterscaptsam/pseuds/winterscaptsam
Summary: Alternative universe, Sam and Bucky fall in love during the pre-war years of Brooklyn, once high school friends that drift apart only to be reunited a year before the war. Will it last during a time of combat and minimal rights?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Hiraeth: a Welsh concept that basically means missing/having nostalgia "for something" or "missing a home" which may not exist or hasn't existed for a long time.
> 
> I tried to include various factual events that actually happened between 1930-41 and added a bit of American slang and sayings they would've used back then. I'll add the translations to them, just refer back to the top of the notes on each chapter for their meanings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in italics is either a flashback sequence to when they were kids only exception being when its in present day (normal font) italics will be used for their thoughts. Sorry if it gets confusing but I'll make it obvious.

Truth be told, Bucky always had a little curiosity for Sam Wilson. He couldn't help but find the mystery new boy alluring. Small black stiff curls stuck to his head of hair, chocolate brown eyes that were only more visible when he showed off his gap tooth smile. But it was nothing, just a little curiosity for the new boy- least that's what Bucky told himself. 

Sam Wilson, joining Brooklyn's School of Science at age 12 from the Bronx, moving in with his mother and sister after the death of his father, that was a loss Bucky could understand all too well. Not that he ever tried, Bucky only knew Sam as the new boy who answered all the questions in science class but kept quiet when it came to history lessons. Sam didn't really have that much friends, hanged out with Linda Charles until sophomore year where he asked her to be his girlfriend. Rumour has it he took her virginity day after they made it official. 

It's not that Bucky was jealous, he hadn't had a right to be considering he barley knew Sam that well and never made an effort to either, that is until Steve took a liking to Sam Wilson in their shared sports class. According to Steve, he was handling the bullies really well until Sam swooped in to help out a bit, which in reality meant that Sam stopped Steve from getting yet another black eye.

"Sams's joinin' us for lunch today, yeah?" Steve muttered to Bucky during maths class, and that's how the friendship started.

Bucky, Steve and Sam. All three of them against the world (technically school of a 100 and class of 20 but that doesn't really matter) sneaking drinks into school from Bucky's mothers wine cabinet, taking a puff of an old cigar each until they were coughing up in laughter. And through all that, Bucky was quite certain to himself that Sam was just a friend, a friend like Steve- but he knew when he was lying to himself. He couldn't help but linger his hands on Sam's touch whenever they play fought, couldn't help but stare a little too long when the smoke of a cigar escaped his pink lips and perfectly lit up around his features. 

And the exact moment that Bucky could feel his heart beating for Sam, was the exact same time it broke to pieces. 

When it comes to the summer of 1939, Steve is yet again getting his ass beat while Bucky is working job after job paying for the majority of the rent in the two room apartment they shared. Bucky lay flat on the sofa bed, eyes closed and listening to the radio on its lowest volume, when Steve startled through the door completely out of breath.

"Buck! Bucky, you'll never believe who I just saw"

"What- who?" Bucky's voice not nearly as interested as his answer seemed.

"Sam fucking Wilson!"

Bucky's eyes shot open, _Sam? No, it can't be, Sam left._ "What'd you just say?"

"Sam, Bucky. I saw Sam!" Steve's blue eyes lit up in enjoyment and all Bucky could do was stare as he felt a rush of blood collapse through him as he felt his heart sink at the mention of a name.

"Asked him to meet us at Charlie's Diner, tomorrow at noon. You coming? Of course, you're coming. You know he hasn't changed a bit. Bit taller and all but still good ol' Sam" 

And all Bucky could manage was a soft whisper in response, "okay."

_______________

_What happened was that it was the day before summer break, also the last day of senior year. All three of them sat on the pavement roads behind a restaurant because Sam couldn't enter the same way Steve and Bucky had the privilege of entering through._

_"What's the plan? After summer and all." Bucky asked, taking a chug off the shared bottle of liquor between them._

_"College? Fuck, my ma would kill me if I don't go" Steve flinched a bit at the mention of college as Bucky handed him the bottle._

_"Barnes ain't stepping foot in another school, even if he wanted" Sam smirked a bit, they all knew that Bucky wasn't the brightest when it comes to education. Not that it was a bad thing, he was smart in a handful of other things as Steve always reminded him after every fail grade._

_"Shut up, Sam." Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling anyway as Sam snatched the bottle off of him with a smile._

_"Fuckin' hell, leave a little for me, would ya?"_

_Steve and Bucky laughed as Sam chugged about two drops of liquor that in all reality, wasn't chugging and was just simple begging to get drunk off of an empty liquor bottle._

_"I don't ever wanna loose you boys, you hear?"_

_"Jesus, Steve. You're a corny little fucker."_

_"I mean it, Buck. You and Sam are my best mates."_

_"Yeah, yeah" Bucky laughed it off a bit, grabbing Steve in a headlock as he rubbed his knuckles into the blonde's hair. Bucky wishes that he noticed the silence and secrecy from Sam at that moment. Because Steve did loose his best friend, slowly and then all at once. Sam never showed up to their weekly drunk hang out spot, stopped answering their calls and in less than two months with no contact, both Steve and Bucky made an unspoken agreement that they'd never speak of Sam again. Fearing the worst in a city like Brooklyn and time like 1937, they had just decided on thinking he moved to a college outer Brooklyn and decided to cut ties with his high school buds._

_______________________

_Not that, that explanation made any sense because its Sam, he'd never do something like that. He wasn't the type of guy to say, "see you tomorrow" and not show up the next day or any of the days after that. Nonetheless, Sam left, he left them that summer while Bucky was still discovering why his heart would yearn for Sam more than he was supposed to, while he was still discovering the forbidden feelings he knew he wasn't able to talk about to anyone._

_Now, the year 1939 and they're all making a stable living. Steve and Bucky repeating high school memories every now and then, flinching whenever they mentioned Sam._

_"Ever wondered what happened to him?" Steve asked once._

_"He didn't care to say, we shouldn't care to wonder." Bucky snapped back, since that night Steve knew to not ask again._

_________________

That was only a lie on Bucky's part though, he wondered every day. Tried to block the memory of Sam by the many one night stands, by telling the mischievous high school stories always excluding Sam out of it. Sometimes he thought about reaching out, writing a letter, visiting by his house. But by the time Bucky had gotten the courage to go by Sam's house, it was too late. An elderly women by the name of Gwen lived there now and had never heard of the name Sam Wilson.

Bucky had almost forgotten about his long hidden deep feelings and thoughts about his long lost friend, that was until Steve saw him again. That was until they had the reunion at Charlie's Diner, Tuesday at noon. 

Sat by a booth at the end of the diner, Bucky and Steve both sat next to each other on the red cushioned seat, staring at the empty one in front of them for what had been twenty minutes now. 

"He ain't coming, Stevie. I know you want him too but you just gotta face the fact that he doesn't care about us anymore." 

Steve ignored his friends comment, the shimmer of hope was still in his eyes and Bucky wishes he was as positive as Steve, but that hope for Sam to come back left years ago.

"Let's just go, Steve. Ain't no point-"

And that's when he saw him. Nubian toned skin that glistened in the diner's light, chocolate brown eyes that he could taste the sweetness of just by staring into them for far too long. Bucky could feel himself turn 16 again just by the sight of Sam, his breath caught up to his throat as both him and Steve stood up unison. Watching as Sam walked towards their booth, lips forming into a grin, showing off his gap tooth smile that Bucky remembered so easily.

"Steve Rogers, my man!" Sam's voice spoke up, sounded as happy as his smile as he pulled in the little blonde for a hug. 

"Its been too long, bud. I-we missed you, Sam" Steve replied, pulling away from the hug as he tried to hold back his tears. As much as Sam's leave affected Bucky, he knew how sad Steve had gotten as well. 

"I know, I'm sorry." Sam's voice turned to sorrow, his smile almost disappearing before his eyes landed on Bucky's blue ones. Sighing out a small laugh, he shook his head as he stared back at his old friend. Steel blue eyes and fluffed brown eyes, still had that charming look since high school. 

"Buchanan Barnes," he said as he pulled Bucky in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around him, Bucky a little tense at first but couldn't help but ease at Sam's touch. It took all his strength to not let a tear drop onto Sam's shirt. He never thought he'd had the opportunity to see Sam again, never mind hug him.

He doesn't say anything, just pulls off the hug as Sam sits opposite them in the booth. Steve can't help but mutter a small "told you so," as they sit down and stare at the now occupied seat.

"Steve Rogers, still a scrawny blonde. Aren't ya?" Sam laughed a little, earning a knowing laugh from Steve but a cold faced look from Bucky. Not that Sam noticed Bucky's expression anyway, he was too full of his own happiness while looking at Steve.

"You know it." Steve agreed.

"James! Bucky, you-"

"Why'd you leave?" Bucky interrupted him before Sam could continue his chatter.

Sam just sighed, took his flat cap off as he laid it on the table, and looked down to bare palms off his hands. "Brooklyn...Brooklyn just isn't the city for a man that looks like me."

Steve's eyes filled up with sympathy, knowing all to well what Sam meant. 

"What can I get you boys?" The sudden voice of a young, brunette waitress popped up as she turned her heels to face only Bucky and Steve, smiling brightly as she waited to serve them.

"Two coffees for us, please. And you, Sam?" Steve had asked, only for the women to sigh a little as she forced a smile on her face while turning to face Sam.

"The same is fine, thank you." Sam offered a smile, only to be greeted back by a sigh. Turning on her heels to leave, as if the colour of Sam's skin was such an inconvenience to her job. 

"Point proven." Sam's voice soft, a reassuring smile as Steve was about to offer his comfort. 

"What you doin' down here in Brooklyn?" Steve asked instead.

Sam's face turned to a shining grin, "Got a job offer, on the local newspaper"

"Thats damn good for you, Sam. Ain't it Bucky?"

Bucky still hasn't said anything, unable to voice his thoughts, he had too many of them. _Why_ _didn't you tell us you were leaving? Do you remember the promises we made? Are you even still the same person? Why do I still look at you the same way I did three years ago? Didn't you care enough to at least say bye? I missed you, I sill miss you._

"Yeah, pretty good." Bucky said instead,

"What about you boys? Steve still mucking about in the street corners?" Sam laughed a bit at the memory, the amount of times Bucky and Sam had stopped Steve from getting a beating was uncountable. He had a heart of gold, not much of muscle to match it however. 

"Bucky and I live upstate. Why don't you come down for a drink after?"

"I don't want to bother-"

"You'll never be a bother." Bucky interrupts him, his tone a sudden seriousness that he hadn't even realised until a small silence fell in between them and Sam looked into his eyes. Bucky swallows a gulp, breaks the slight tension, "Don't you wanna see our shitty apartment flat anyway?"

Sam smirked a reply, "why not, eh?" he says as he ruffles Bucky's hair.

Sam was back and as far as Bucky was concerned, he wasn't going to loose him twice. 


	2. Chapter 2

Here's a little secret: Bucky hates reading.

He was the first to propose the idea of getting a radio instead of paying next months rent, which ended up in a lot of heat but thankfully Steve Rogers had manners and a smile that went a long way. But now that, Sam was back and was a writer for the local Brooklyn newspaper? Well, suddenly Bucky was massively interested in what was going on in the world. Reading word after word, inserting himself in the small column Sam had reserved at the back of the paper. 

"Did you even watch Pinocchio?" Bucky asked, peering his head over the paper as he looked up at Sam who was too busy jolting pen to notebook.

"Uh- no, why?" 

"You wrote a review for somethin' you haven't watched?"

Sam shrugged, "I was too busy writing the review for it to watch it."

"That don't make any sense, bud" Bucky's voice in pure sarcasm, 

Sam smirked a bit, looking up to make eye contact with Bucky's blues, "You seen it?"

But before Bucky could reply both men jumped up from their seats as they heard a raging Steve come from the back of the flat, door shut closed as they could hear the blonde's repeated curses.

"What's gotten in your head, Steve?" Bucky asked, frantically slamming the door open as Sam watched from behind, face in pure confusion and shock. 

"I got a date."

"But, why'd you-"

"I got a date and I ain't got nothing to wear."

"Who you got a date with?" Bucky smirked up at Steve, raising a slight eyebrow as he could see Sam grinning from the corner of his eyes.

"Natasha..." Steve whispered as he went to look through his wardrobe again.

"Romanov? No fuckin' way!"

"Whose that?" Sam asked, peering his eyes in-between both Steve and Bucky's blue eyes, one filled with embarrassment and the other in mockery.

"Only the girl Steve's been pining over since summer 38"

Sam smiled, trying to hide back his hurt, realising how much he's missed from his best friends lives since he left. The feeling only becoming more real when he can hear the lost memories for himself.

"I haven't been pining. Simply bein' a gentlemen. Which you don't seem to know of," Steve retorted back to Bucky as he placed a brown jacket over himself, as if trying to hide the embarrassment for his light peached button up shirt.

"You haven't been able to hang onto a lass since Jenny Carter, don't lie to yourself Buck."

"Jenny Carter?" Sam popped his voice again into the conversation, only for Bucky to avoid eye contact with him,

"No one." Bucky stopped the conversation in the swift change of his tone.

Jenny Carter was the girl Bucky had dated the summer after Sam left, she was the sweetest girl in town, eyes pretty and big, any lad would've ached to be with her, to hold her the way Bucky got to but the luckiness he didn't seem to grasp as he found himself faking the connection with her through the whole of summer. He never understood why, perhaps she was the wrong girl, that he just needed to find the right one and his smiles wouldn't be fake anymore.

Steve left for his date, only for Sam to leave behind him. Leaving Bucky alone in the flats complex. Smell of cigar smoke still roaming through the house and the silent voice of the radio to keep him awake. He lay flat on his bed, closing his eyes only to flash back to memories of the past. 

____________________

_"Here's a theory, Stevie's gonna grow up and become President" Bucky chocked out in between sips from his beer can,_

_"And us?" Sam asked him, peering into his eyes as if Bucky really knew the answer,_

_"We'll be his right hand men, of course. Tellin' him the laws to pass and all," Bucky shrugged, avoiding eye contact in case Sam could see the faint hope in his eyes._

_"We'll find him a good Mrs, as well. She can deal with him when we don't wanna" Sam joined in with the joke, fitting in his opinion with their made up beliefs._

_"And what'll happen to us then?" Bucky asks, suddenly a feel of realism hitting his chest. He had often wondered if the years passed, would Sam still be by his side?_

____________________ 

"Buck, you awake?" Steve's voice interrupting Bucky's thoughts that are still in his head, lifting himself up from the bed to sit up straight and see Steve whose walking towards him, jumping onto Bucky's bed with a smile on his face.

"How was it?" he asks, realising its now dark outside and its been hours since Sam and Steve left.

"She's great, Buck. Funny, kind and she's got the face of an angel," Steve sighs out, looking up to the ceiling as if he could imagine her next to him right then and now. 

"Good for you, Stevie" he knuckles his best friend in for a headlock, grinning as he does.

"I invited her over for dinner tomorrow, with Sam. Thought she could meet you all?" it pops out as a question more than a statement.

"You need our blessin' or what?"

"I'm serious, Buck."

Bucky only rolls his eyes, pulls Steve in tighter in the headlock as he ruffles his blonde scruffy hair. "Tell me, tell me all about your night, Stevie! Does she make love to you like she does in your dreams? Tell you, you're her man and no muscular lad will take you place?"

"Oh, suck it, Bucky." Steve retorts to Bucky's mockery. Tackling himself out the headlock as he leaves the room but he's got a smile on his face. 

Bucky's happy for Steve, he truly is. But he can't help it if his heart tugs a little tighter in his chest, watches as his best friend falls in love, knowing he could never feel that type of happiness.

He grabbed his jacket as he swung the apartment door behind him shut, stuffing his hands into his pockets and reading the crumpled piece of paper that had Sam's new address. Bucky recognised the street, only a couple blocks away from the newspaper agency.

Knocking once on the hard red door, forcing himself to not knock twice when he doesn't get an answer after a couple of seconds that turn to a minute.

Sam swings the door open, his lips forming a smile when he saw Bucky standing by his doorstep. "Oh, Barnes," he said as he stood at the side and opened the door further so Bucky could walk in.

"You could at least act a bit happy," Bucky mocked as if he was highly offended.

Sam grinned, "You're right, I'm sorry. Wanna leave so we can do this again?"

Bucky squinted his eyes, "Do you take me as a fool, Wilson?"

"The only." Sam mocked back but pulled Bucky in for a hug, smiling but whispering "It's good to see you, Buck"

Bucky nodded, pulling away from the hug. "Just thought I'd say hi, Steve's got Natasha over," he lied, trying to find an excuse so his random pop in didn't creep Sam out too much.

Sam nodded, "Well, you could help me then. I'm writin' up a draft for next weeks paper"

Bucky only let out a simple sounded of agreement, sitting on the couch as Sam went to his room to get his work. Bucky wandered his eyes around the home, the kitchen joint into the living room, everything a light shade of brown, books and papers stacked on every surface with a cup of coffee beside it, a used cigar placed on the window sill, blinking away the memory of them smoking up behind the school yard, if he closed his eyes long enough he'd be able to see it again.

____________________

_"You gotta breathe it in and then out, Steve" Sam's voice a sigh but a grin on his face as he showed Steve how to smoke the cigar with his own one._

_"I am!"_

_"No, you're suckin' it. You should leave the sucking to Bucky," Sam laughed out as Bucky's face scrunched up in offence._

_"You're a little piece of-"_

_But before Bucky could carry on, Sam had pulled him into a headlock. Ruffling up his softened brown hair as he could hear Steve's roll in laughter at the back and the feel of Sam tackling him._

_"My ma will kill me if I ain't home, I'll see you tomorrow," Steve said in between laughs as he got up and ran off with Bucky's voice begging him to stay, trying to get in enough words while he was still in Sam's tackle,_

_"You- no, don't leave with me this fucker. Steve! Stevie!" Bucky shouted out, acting up his voice as if he was crying._

_Which only made Sam stop, let the pressure off of his arms as he really thought Bucky was crying. Only for Bucky to laugh at the concern in Sam's face and tackle him to the ground, cigar falling out of Sam's fingers and rolling onto the mudded street floors._

_"So, your'e an actor now?" Sam scoffed out as he grabbed Bucky's arm in self defence and tackled his back to the floor as he pinned both arms on either side of Bucky's head._

_"You're only jealous I got more talent than you," Bucky grinned up at Sam._

_"One talent doesn't beat my thousand skills,"_

_Bucky raised up an eyebrow, "show me a skill then, Wilson."_

_And Bucky doesn't like admitting this but he kind of liked the soft feeling of Sam's hands pinning his own down, he liked the comfort of Sam's body on top of his as they foolishly smiled with their faces only inches apart. So, that's why Bucky could swear he felt his heart stop for a second when Sam got off of him, releasing the pressure of his hands as he grabs for the cigar that rolled away and stumps back towards the alleyway wall, shrugging as he takes a puff out of it._

_Avoiding Bucky's words as he just sat there. Only for Bucky to get up and slump himself back against the walls again, making sure there was space between him and Sam, just in case. In case of what, he didn't know but better to be safe than sorry, right? But he was sorry, he replayed the memory in his head all night when he got home._

_The_ _softness of his eyelashes that batted gently on the soul of his iris, he looks into them a little too long. Its detail delicate and beautiful- like a girl._

_The pink of his lips that gently parted after each word, he wandered how it would feel if Sam's lips grazed against his- like_ _a girl, like a girl._

_Maybe if he kept repeating it, he’d start to believe it._

____________________

“You okay, Buck?" Sam interrupted Bucky's flash of a memory. 

Bucky turned his head from the cigar and back to Sam, realising the feel of salty water that escaped his eyes, looking into Sam's brown eyes that stared back in concern. His voice caught up in his throat, “Sorry,”

Sam grabs onto Bucky’s arms as he tries walking for the door, “Buck, what’s-“

His heart flinches at the warmth of Sam’s touch against his skin, still the same softness from years ago.

”Nothin’, gotta go.” he mutters back.

Bucky sprints out the apartment, stuffing his hands into his pocket as he walks fast and far enough out of Sam’s sight.

 _Like a girl,_ he tries to remind himself. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italic font used for a memory of the past, normal font used for present day. Sorry if it get's confusing but I'll try and make it obvious. The italic writing with the dash at start and end is the radio.

"What's all the noise for, Buck?' Steve asked, peering his sleep filled eyes past Bucky's bedroom door.

Rummaging through all his desks and drawers, flipping his bedsheets upside down. It was five, eight- maybe ten of them. Crumpled up, coffee stained notes from high school that Bucky had ~~forgotten to throw away~~ kept years after Sam's departure.

"Nothin' Stevie, go back to bed." 

_____________________

_It started off with notes during class, since they all shared the same English lesson, Bucky, then Steve behind him and Sam next to Steve's seat. It was the week before summer break, all kids exhausted and ready to vacation. Bucky wrote his first note, passed it to Steve behind him who shook his head in disappointment (he was always the goody two shoes of the class) and then passed it to Sam, reading each word carefully,_

**_D'ya rekon Fitzgerald wrote best cellar's by listenin to the importance of_ ** **_American literature speaches all day? (I don't if I'm being honest with ya)_ **

_Sam only rolled his eyes, considering writing neatly over Bucky's spelling and grammar mistakes but turned the note over to write his reply instead,_

**_No, but I'm sure he_ _learnt a great deal from them._ ** **_Why, you thinking of writing up a best seller, Barnes?_ **

_He folded up the note, passed it to Steve who only grunted a reply, "I ain't passing around no foolishness,"_

_Which only prompted Sam to whisper-shout Bucky's name from his back seat. Causing the row of students to look at him in frustration, "Barnes! I'll do it up in an aeroplane. You catch it, yeah?"_

_And the second, Sam's hands started shaping the note to the smallest paper aeroplane, Steve gave in. Cheeks red in frustration and sighing out, "Jesus! Fine, give it 'ere, I'll pass the note."_

_And just as the second Steve was ready to sneak Bucky the note, the school bell went off as their teacher walked right up in front of Steve, "My lesson bore you, Mr Rogers?"_

_"Uh, n-no, Sir."_

_"So, would you care to explain why you're sending off notes in the middle of my class?"_

_"No, Sir. I was only- I'm sorry, I just meant-"_

_Steve unable to finish off his sentences in stutter as he could hear Sam and Bucky tried holding back their laughter, there always something amusing like watching the golden boy (Steve) get told off for something that wasn't even his fault. And he made sure that Bucky and Sam knew that, hands in his pocket as he sulked like a five year old on their walk back home,_

_"You're a bunch'a twats, letting Mr Cornwall get me in trouble like that,"_

_Sam and Bucky only smirked mischievously in response, putting an arm around both his shoulders each,_

_"Golden boy put in second place?" and "Awh, scared he won't accept you're mornin' apple tomorrow,"_

_Steve only shrugged them off, quickly dodging their playfully headlocks, "Bunch'a twats, I'm telling ya," he nodded back to them as he ran off into his house street._

Bucky's eye's ladling on a handful of old written up notes, his eyes peering in disbelief as he finds them at the bottom of a sackful of papers and books, reading through all of them over and over again. The memories becoming more vivid by each word, as if he can hear the voice of Sam's words by the letters on the papers.

__________________

 _Normally it was Steve who'd be getting the beating of a life time behind alleyway walls next to the rotting dumpsters, this time however it was Bucky. Getting greeted by kicks to his abdomen as his busted lip shivered for help, nose bleeding as his hands clutched to defend himself only to get thrown away by kicks from the taller man,_ _broad and muscular._

_"Ain't no one to help you here, fairy," the man spat out at Bucky who was laying half beaten, shirt stained in dried blood. And Bucky could swear he felt the life draining out of him, each kick or punch slowering his broken heartbeat and just as the man spits down on him before he runs off at the sound of police sirens, Bucky can see a distant figure walking up towards him._

_Brown eyes filled with sympathy, a small sad sigh escaping his lips as the figure kneels down in front of him,_

_"S-Sam?" Bucky just about mangoes out, choked sobs and shivering lips._

_"Lookin' like a right old mess, you are," Sam sighed out in a puff, quavering his lips to form a smile of reassurance, bringing up Bucky's arms to sling it across his shoulders, helping him stance up as he limps. Bucky easing onto Sam's touch, allowing him to hold up his broken body,_

_"Why were those lads beating on you, anyway?" Sam had asked, peering his brown eyes of curiosity into Bucky's blues._

_"Nothin" he replies, too scared to tell Sam the truth. Avoiding the look in his eyes, scared he'd start to tear up but even if he did, Sam wouldn't ask, only blame it on the pain._

_Reaching up to Sam's flat, down an isolated neighbourhood, the sound of cats and workers taking out the bins all too clear. Bucky stood,_ _clutched_ _to Sam's side, who held him up with all his weight as he knocked quick and tough on the maroon coloured door, a young girl, only slightly shorter than Sam, tight curls up in a bun with a floral dress drifting up to her knees, she looked up at Sam, her smile disappearing as she saw Bucky by his side, nose dried with blood and hair scrubbed up, school uniform ripped with blood stains._

_"Sarah, I know how it looks but he ain't looking for any trouble," Sam said desperately, looking up at his sisters disappointed reaction._

_"Yeah, looks like he already found it," she sighed a little, her eyes hovering over how broken and drafted Bucky had looked before catching the glimpse of worry and care in Sam's eyes, "Fine, get him in here. Before Momma comes home from work,"_

_Bucky sighed out a little "thank you," collapsing onto the sofa that Sam lay him in, clutching onto his bruised sides, flinching at the touch of his own hands._

_Sarah pulls Sam into the kitchen first aid kit already in hand, "You best get him out of here before ma comes home,"_

_"I know, I will. Just please don't ask no questions,"_

_She raises an eyebrow, scoffs at Sam's response. "You bring home a beat up white boy and expect me to not question it?"_

_Sam only cocks his eyebrow up, tries snatching the first aid kit of her hands before she pulls back, holding it tight to her grip. "You owe me a big one, Sammy" she peers up at him before going back to Bucky's side, kneeling down in front of him and wetting up a tissue before dabbing it gently around the dried blood._

_"Where'd you catch a beating like this?" she asks, voice soft as her brown locks peer into Bucky's broken eyes._

_His voice raspy as she tries to chock out an answer, she reaches for the glass of water, already half drunken out of she tilts Bucky's chin gently as she places the glass softly to his lips as he sips down some water, cool and refreshing to his throat. He tries his voice again as Sarah places the cup back down,_

_"Behind the Blue Flamingos" he whispers, looking down in slight shame, almost as if too scared to meet her eyes._

_"The club? Ain't that-"_

_The only queer club in Brooklyn, New York._

_"I know." his voice_ i _nterrupts, avoiding not only her eyes but Sam's as well._

_Sarah only looks back to face Sam, her eyes filling up with worry, a hint of sympathy Sam hadn't noticed in the moment. He hadn't noticed any of it, not even the shame that came with Bucky's voice as he explained what happened to him._

___________________

"My fellow readers...to all the eyes on this page...fuck, how am I meant to start this?" Sam asked, hands to his face as he shook his head in disappointment, frowning as Steve only offered a shrug back, not giving any feedback at all.

Bucky payed back on the sofa, eyes squinting in a loud mouthed yawn as his fingers fiddled with the volume of the radio,

"Wow, Barnes. Real helpful, I'm tryna make a livin' over here and ain't none of ya gonna help me out?" Sam's face growing into an ever bigger frown as he turned to face Steve whose head was on the table, hand clutching onto a bottle of liquor which was too big for his scrawny self.

"Don't take any offence, but I'd much rather listen to a soppy old man on the radio than help you write for a bunch'a rich folks enjoyment," Bucky sneered,

"Well, those rich folks are puttin' money in my pocket."

"How much?"

"Worry about your own salary, Barnes."

"I'm only askin' is it much? Or they cheatin' on ya?"

"Shut up," Steve's head propped up at the sound of the radio, 

"No way, I just wanna know-"

"Bucky, shut up for a sec, would ya?" Steve's voice a harsh tone as he rushes to switch the radio to a louder volume.

_\- President Roosevelt declared the United States Custom Service to implement Neutrality Act of 1939, allowing the purchase of cash and carry weapons to Nations of alliance -_

"Jesus Christ," Steve's voice mutters in a whisper,

"May God have mercy on their souls," Sam prompts his voice in slight reassurance. 

A heavy silence follows the echo of the radio, the gulp Sam swallows back and Steve's words caught in his throat, the sudden hit of reality beating against his heart. If whatever was going down there in Britain and Germany ever came down to the states, Sam knew he'd be the first one to enlist. Bucky doesn't say anything, only sits in silence and lets the silence fall before he gets up and rushes out the apartment building, slamming the door behind him and letting the air of Brooklyn swallow him whole. 

He remembers how Sam took him to his home, how his sister helped him- if only he could remember her name. How she didn't ask questions when Bucky had told her where he'd been- if only he had found a better way to say thank you. He hadn't been down to the Blue Flamingo's since that day Sam had found him broken behind the alleyway walls, wonders about going back. It'd only be out of sheer curiosity, but Bucky knew that if he was going down to the only queer club in Brooklyn, it was a distraction, a feeling of safety maybe? But even if he was surrounded by people he thought he was like, there was never a world called safety in a world like this. Not when you're a man like Bucky.


	4. Chapter 4

_\- Premiering tomorrow night, the musical fantasy film, following a young lady as she's whisked away to a magical land, the incredible Metro Goldwyn Mayer's production for its last opening night, The Wizard of Oz! -_

"What'd ya think?" Bucky asks, trying to find focus into Sam's brown eyes that were locked onto the book in front of him. 

"Hm?" Sam asks, eyes still focused on the pages.

"Goin' down the theatre, see what all this fantasy film fanatic is about," he smirks, trying to gran Sam's full attention.

"Yeah, I ain't got no problem with it," 

But Bucky notices how Sam's attention hasn't wavered away from the book, his eyes still focused on each word, fingers tracing the paper as if mesmerising its detail. Bucky watches, smiles to himself, almost wanting to just let Sam sit there in all his glory, admiring the way his attention doesn't fade away when he's really interested, wishes Sam would pay attention to his that way, wonders if he repeats the words Bucky says to him the same way he thinks about the letters on the page.

"What you readin' anyway?" Bucky jumps onto the sofa next to Sam, ignoring the sound of the radio in the background and props himself up as if ready for any response Sam gives. 

"Of Mice and Men," Sam mutters back, flipping the page as his eyes peer more and more into the the words.

"Never heard of it,"

Sam peers up from his book, looks at Bucky in slight shock and squints his brown eyes as he looks up him before turning back down to his book and folding over the edge of paper to mark his page before setting it down and turning to face Bucky, "You listenin?" he asks and Bucky only nods a smile as a reply.

"Two men, George and Lennie trying to find work and all, till they do end up workin' in some Ranch,"

"And?"

"And nothin' I haven't finished it yet,"

"Well, what part you on?"

Sam's lips form a smile, cockily raising an eyebrow at Bucky before he reaches back for the book and flipping all the way to the beginning page, relaxing back onto the sofa as he precedes to read aloud, voice warm and gentle,

"A few miles south of Soledad, the Salimas river drops in close the hillside bank..."

Bucky eases to the sound of Sam's voice reading, soft and soothing to the ear, trying to find the pieces of Sam within the book, maybe if he listened closely he'd find Sam hidden in between the meaning of the words.

______________________ 

_"_ C'mon, _Buck. We'll be late for class," Steve's voice had pleaded as Bucky was up trying to tackle himself over a brick wall, stolen cigar being held on by the tip of his mouth,_

_"Mr Cornwall won't miss us," Sam grinned back at Steve who had yet to be told about what exactly they were planning on doing._

_Which in all honesty, wasn't all too bad but one missed class and Steve's heart would go racing. It was the year 1935, Bride of Frankenstein had just been released in theatres and no school test was going to stop Bucky from seeing it for himself. So, there they were, Thursday morning, half an hour late to school because Sam and Bucky were trying to sneak themselves into Brooklyn's, Oxford Theatre instead of sparing the couple of cents they had stuffed in their ripped up trousers which wasn't nearly enough anyway._

_Only catching a glimpse of twenty minutes of the film before a security guard caught them, Bucky blamed it on Steve's complaining the whole way through which wasn't as much as a whisper as he thought it was. Running far and away from the theatre before crashing behind an empty building at the side of their street before the guard could realise they were a bunch of school kids skipping class._

_"Next time- no, they won't be no next time," Steve pants out as he clutches his hands to his knees,_ _deeply out of breath._

 _Sam and Bucky just smirk up at each other, locking eye contact as they already know they're going to try again the next morning._

_________________________

The opening night for Wizard of Oz was as expensive and as packed as they would've guessed, nonetheless Sam seemed excited by the look of curiosity in his eyes and smile forming across his lips, Bucky hiding his panic of anxiety as they were crowded in the theatre, just managing to make it to their seats. Only for Bucky's eyes to be distracted by all the lads placing their arms around their girls, the smell of popcorn mixed with the sweet rose perfume off of the ladies, how he wishes he was mesmerised by them as much as he was with the smell of their perfume. 

Sweet and gentle, _just like Sam_ , he thinks before closing his eyes shut at the thought only to open them again at the fantasy film to start playing on the screen. Once the movie had ended, both Sam and Bucky waiting till it was a little less packed before making their way out the theatre, Bucky stuffing his hands in his pocket from the stuffy night air as Sam was getting out his cigar, smoking out a small puff before handing a turn to Bucky,

"I'm good," Bucky denies the offer, looking straight down at the Brooklyn pavements, avoiding Sam's eye. Problem was, Bucky had kept peering over his shoulder every ten minutes just to look at Sam, securely hoping his brown eyes would meet Bucky's only for a smile to creep up abasing his face at the darkened cinema with only the screen as a form of light, Bucky's eyes almost blown away by the small details of emotions Sam would show as reactions. 

"I'm melting! Melting!" Sam mimicked the film in laughter,

"Who'da thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness!" Bucky continued, butchering up his most squeaky voice ever as he over dramatised his performance, falling to his knees as he tried hiding his laughter behind his not so serious performance as Sam clutched his stomach in rolls of laughter. 

"You're a fool, Barnes" Sam says, controlling a bit of his laughter as he helps Bucky up.

Reaching back for Sam's hands, wrapping his fingers tightly around the palm of Sam's hands, trying not to focus too much on the contact. Soft and warm against his own, he pulls himself up still gripping onto Sam's hands, balancing his footsteps as Sam calms his laughter to a smile, _that damn smile_ which always made Bucky's heart flutter by a second's look. Foolish smiles all over their faces as blue and brown iris mix together, as if the drunken laughs from the theatre and the stuffy New York air disappearing slowly and its only them left, standing alone in each other's gaze in the streets of uptown Brooklyn, only the tension between them visible. 

Swallowing the hard gulp stuck in his throat, Bucky's eyes wander down to the arch of Sam's lips, _a couple inches closer_ and they'd be touching, the feeling of the unknown in his grasp,Bucky's breath hitches as he feels his heart beating in his throat. They're lips only inches apart as Bucky seizes his opportunity, slightly parting the softness of his lips, inching his head up to meet Sam's as he closes his eyes and leans into Sam's lips, the kiss he'd been aching for just seconds away. And just as Bucky can feel another pressure on his own lips- Sam dodges the kiss, eyes wide in a state of confusion as he takes a step backwards.

"Fuck, I- shit, I'm sorry," Bucky mutters in a ramble of embarrassment, 

He freezes, walking three steps back so there was a clear space in-between them, the breeze of New York shifting past them as Bucky lets out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding as he hangs his head in shame, closing his eyes, hoping that when he opens them again the moment will disappear into the night sky. 

It doesn't, it hangs over him the whole walk back home and the sleepless night after it.

_______________________

Thursday night, at the company of Steve's mother cooking dinner for thanksgiving, she asks him about his love life. "How's that Jenny girl doing? You still seeing her, Jamie? She was a pretty little dame,"

"Oh, no ma'am. Not seein' anyone no more," Bucky hitches his voice up, but Steve notices the small crack in his voice, the feeling of nervousness Steve knew all too well. Grabbing up a paper and pen as Steve scribbled down a note, passing it to Bucky across the dinner table as his mother's back was turned.

**_Whats goin' on with ya, Buck?_ **

Bucky only reads the note and looks up at Steve, stern look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at his attempt before turning the paper over and snatching the pen off of Steve's hands,

_**Nothin your ma's herbal tea wouldn't fix. I'm fine, Stevie :)** _

And that's all Bucky can keep repeating to Steve the whole way home, through dinner, through any conversation where Steve would bring it up until one day Bucky is leaning his head against the softness of his pillow, cigar pinching in-between his lips as the radio fills the silence of his room before Steve barges in, enough of this whole 'I'm fine,' bullshit Bucky kept telling him, he turns the radio volume to its lowest level as he kicks Bucky's legs off the bed, startling him into sitting up with a dissatisfied look on his face,

"The fuck was that for?" he sneered out at Steve who sat up on the bed next to him,

"What's goin' on with you, Bucky? Really, y'know I'm here to help," Steve's blue eyes pleaded along with his voice,

Bucky only takes a glimpse of the sadness in his best friends eyes before looking away, pressing both elbows against either of his knee caps as he runs his hands through the thickness of his brown hair, sighing out a huff, clear and visible to the ear, shaking his head in denial of Steve's voice,

"Buck, please just tell me what's up with ya,"

Bucky only shakes his head again, mutters under his breath, stiff and on the verge of breaking down, "I-its...I can't"

Steve doesn't say anything, only sits closer to Bucky as he lands his arms around Bucky's shoulders, pulling him closer in comfort, "Steve..." he hears Bucky's voice raspy and almost breathless call out his name, 

"Yeah?" Steve's voice an audible whisper,

Bucky swallows back a gulp, eyes closing only to picture Sam when he had first met him in seventh grade, flashing to another image of them at 16 sharing a half filled bottle of liquor, Bucky can feel the sting of tears in his eyes as he pictures the last memory of Sam's lips so close against his- "I'm a fuckin' queer,"

And it feels like a sin filled weight off of his shoulders, the feeling he'd been told was a sin repeatedly by his family, by his school, by the country. But _fucking hell this sin would feel so good when with Sam,_ looking up in a slight wary of consiouncess as he comes to reality by what he had finally admitted aloud. Steve only props Bucky's head up, his blue eyes searching for Bucky's as he lets out a small smile of reassurance,

"Who?" he asks, the name already in his head. 

"Sam," Bucky lets out a whisper, meeting Steve's eyes. "I'm a mess Stevie. I fuckin' lost him,"

Steve only watches as his best friend shakes his head in shame, realises everything that had been right in front of him the whole time. "You ain't a mess, Buck...you ain't a mess," he reassures him, because he can't speak for whatever is going through Sam's mind but all he knows is his best friend sure as hell ain't a mess. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used a bit of 30s slang here, the definitions to all of them in case ya don't particularly understand it:
> 
> Cash or check: kiss me now or later? (you'd reply 'cash' if you want a kiss or 'check' if you're saving the kiss for later)  
> Banks closed: saying no, doesn't want to kiss at all
> 
> (Also, bonus points if you can spot the Stackie quote I used of what Anthony says to Sebastian in an interview)

At age 12 Bucky had his first kiss, sloppy but sweet at the back of his history class. Her name was Madeline Jacobson and almost all the boys in sixth grade had a crush on her, apart from Bucky that was. He understood it, of course. She was the prettiest girl in their class, frizzy brown curls that sat on her shoulders, hazel eyes and skin as clear as day. 

___________________

_It was Tuesday, February 18th, 1930 and the gossip of the day was non other than the new planet Arizona scientists had discovered, Pluto. Instead of learning about the Great War, (WW1 as we know it) todays topic was the history of the planets and as all the twelve year olds in Bucky's class would describe the discovery as "not a new planet but a meteoroid," which means its pretty shameful if the worlds ending and you still haven't had your first kiss, in a twelve year olds brain that is._

_"I don't mind kissing ya, since it's the end of the world and all'a that," Madeline had proposed the offer to Bucky who was in the seat next to her, blue eyes still peering straight up the board._

_"Uh-yeah. W-why not?" was all Bucky could manage before she propped her head closer to his._

_Tangling her lips into his, slippery and quite quick but Bucky felt as if it had lasted forever. Steve had spent the whole day being more excited than Bucky was, asking millions of questions each time they were together. "How'd it feel, Buck?" Steve had asked him once,_

_Like I should've felt more, didn't feel like anything. Why didn't it feel like everyone else described it? "Good," he says instead, with a smile plastered on his face._

_____________________

"Pass the booze, would ya Steve?" Bucky's voice asked as he lay back, laziness taking over him as Steve hovered over the kitchen counter.

"We don't got any," he shouted back, "Go out and get some,"

Bucky's eyes rolling in annoyance but also in desperation of getting something down his throat which wasn't water or the awful herbal tea Steve would try making, getting up and putting on his Stacy Adams that did cost him $134 but to his defence, the rent was on Steve that month considering he hadn't been paying a penny the last two months. Grabbing the keys and closing the door behind him all in one swift motion.

"Hey," he hears a voice, mellow and recognisable to his ears, Sam's voice. 

"Hey," he whispers back, eyes darting to his lips and straight back to his soul brown eyes as if the memory of their lips being apart hurt too much.

A silence sits between them, a half smile on the of Sam's face as if he's too scared to make a full one. Bucky shrugs his shoulders, best attempt at being casual, "What you doin'?"

"Just stoppin' by to see, Steve," he motions to the door Bucky is still pressed up against, "And you?"

"Store,"

Sam nods, pressing his lips together tighter before he raises an eyebrow, "I should-" he points to the handle. 

"Uh, course. My bad- sorry," Bucky's voice lets out all in one ramble as he moves away and walks towards the staircase leading out the apartment, turning around to catch one more glimpse of Sam, the cliche hope in him wanting Sam to turn back, he doesn't, only walks in closing the door shut behind him.

About half an hour later and Sam's still up at their apartment, laid back on the sofa with Steve, radio on loud as it played the 1939 NFL Championship with a wasted cigar sat between them.

 _\- Finally taking the ball to the one yard line, Packers are the new champions of the national league. Its another victory as they're now winning 27 to nothing_ _-_

"YES!" Both Steve and Sam shout in unison, cheers high as they punch their hands into the air.

"Alright there, boys?" Bucky's voice interrupts as he walks into the living space, two brown bags of drinks huddled in his arms. In all honesty, Bucky was prepared to have all four bottles of liquor to himself and keep hidden in his room until dawn but listening to the sports commentator on the radio with his best mates, didn't sound all too bad either. 

Putting all liquor bottles apart from one into the fridge and slumping down on the sofa next to Steve, perhaps the awkward tension between him and Sam was still there to sit next to him just yet. Taking a swig off the bottle, downing it in his bare throat, the sting of taste a now sour but refreshing one. Passing the bottle to Steve who just politely denies the offer, letting out a heavy sigh,

"Right, I'm off" he lets out as he gets off the sofa, making his way to the door as he puts on his coat. 

"Games just started, man. Stay a bit longer, would ya?" Sam protests back,

Steve only lets out a smirk as a reply as he looks back at Bucky whose giving him a deadly stare, he couldn't be leaving him alone with Sam, not in a time like this at least. There was a time when Bucky wanted nothing else but to be alone with Sam, but now was just not the right time when the awkward tension was so visible in the air. 

'Talk to him,' Steve mouths at Bucky, making sure Sam doesn't see as he raises his eyebrows, 'now.' 

_____________________

_1934, March 10th. It was Bucky's 16th birthday and what better way to celebrate than 32 punches all together by your best mates since both Steve and Sam had sixteen punches each._

_"Happy birthday, bud" Steve smiled at him, all teeth and dimples as soon as Bucky entered class, Sam however decided to make a scene. Standing tall and firm on his seat before their teacher had entered class, stolen bottle of liquor from his mother's cabinet held tight in his hand as smiled toothy to a grinning Bucky who had his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyebrows up as he glanced Sam up and down._

_"Buchanan Barnes!" Sam shouted out at him, stretching his arms out as he gestured to Bucky,_

_"Mhm?" Bucky said, trying to stop the smirk on his face from growing larger._

_"Man, oh man..." Sam started off, all grins and cheeky voice, "ever see a guy this handsome walkin' down the streets?"_

_"Oh my god," Bucky manages to let out in between his stretching smiles and blushing red cheeks, looking down in embarrassment as Sam just carried on,_

_"He's gonna get arrested, cuz he's killin' all the ladies," Sam winks at Bucky as he jumps off his the seat and walks over to Bucky, punching the bottle into his chest as he lets his voice die down to whisper, "happy birthday, buddy" he says as he pulls him in for a hug, bottle of liquor still held onto Bucky's chest, separating them from full blown hug but the touch still soft enough to make Bucky's heart flutter more than it should've._

_Sam's words replaying in his head through the rest of class, Bucky's smile still bright and stretching. It's been almost half an hour since the whole fiasco but his grin is still plastered on his face, as if the memory would disappear the second he let go of his grin. I shouldn't feel this happy, he thought but fuck it, if Sam's comments was the sweetest thing to his day then so, what?_

_"Hey, is it alright if I invite Linda over?" Sam whispers over to Bucky in the middle of class,_

_And suddenly the words that ushered out of his lips weren't so sweet anymore._

________________________

Inches between them as they sat on the sofa, the cool summer breeze brushing past their window as the radio's voice gleamed through the silence, Bucky couldn't help but remember the closeness of of Sam's lips, their breathes so closely apart, how he wishes that he could grasp onto the moment again before it disappears into the radio silence. 

"Hey, man. 'Bout that night, I'm cool if you are," Sam's voice starts up first, breaking the tension in the air.

Bucky only swallows back a gulp, his muscles tighter against his shoulders as he stares to the wall in front of him, eyes focused and noticing every detail as he indulges it to his memory the way he memorised the glimmer in Sam's eyes.

"Didn't mean nothin' to me," Sam continues,

 _But it meant everything to me,_ Bucky wants to say but nods instead as he looks at Sam only for a second before glancing back. He can't help but feel his heart sink at the words, he might as well say his truth,

"It did to me," he whispers, letting his eyelashes cover the soul of his eyes as he glances down at the carpet, he hears a shift in Sam's movement before he stiffens his voice up to reply,

"I- I think should go..." Sam says, already up and walking towards the door but the second his fingers grasp the handle he can feel the pressure of Bucky's hands on his arm, holding him back from a moment so close to disappearing.

"Don't, please don't" Bucky's voice almost demanding but the hint of sadness still visible, 

"Bucky..." Sam says, low and tired, almost a sigh. 

"Cash or check?" Bucky asks, daring to raise his voice a little higher, _kiss me now or later_ _is what he means._

 _"_ Banks closed," Sam replies, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes, almost begging to be seen through his brown iris.

So, Bucky asks again. A determined voice asking, questioning him for the truth once more, "cash or check?"

Sam's brown eyes search for the acceptance, the want in Bucky's blues. And in a sudden movement, Sam cups Bucky's cheeks with his hands, brown skin soft to the touch of Bucky's flushed pink cheeks. The pink wetness of their lips are tangled together long enough to inhale each others breath, the sweetness of liquor and bitter cigar trapped in each others taste before they ache for more, detangle their lips, separating to cause a small distance between them, trapped breathes heavy as they stare into each others eyes. Brown and blue iris mixing as if realising the longness of their desperation, Sam smashes his lips onto Bucky once more, hurriedly this time, sensual and destroying the softness that was once there, digging his tongue in between his clenched teeth. Practically wiping the sin off of his lips, replacing it with passion. 


	6. Chapter 6

_The first time Steve and Bucky had brought their apartment was in 1936, December, only three months after Sam had left. Both eighteen and had finished school months before, Steve's mother expecting him to go college but neither of the boys had been accepted to any. Not that it was unusual anyway, most boys started working at 16 anyway._

_It was a rusty old apartment at the side of the Brooklyn streets, the nearest shop at least ten blocks away from them. Bucky's first job as a retail assistant, earning him only 25 cents an hour, spending nine of it on a loaf of bread that'd last Steve and him the weekend if they portioned it small and equally. And then 1937, they got lucky when Bucky managed to get a raise of $11 per week, which was quite steady considering a months rent was only $25 and once they were comfortable enough, getting a radio wouldn't be so bad, maybe a brown fluffed flannel for winter, two instead of one tub of ice creams during summer._

_So, then comes 1938 and they're making a stable living, enough to buy the table top radio Steve was banging on about for three months now, it was worth the cost of $140 (not that Bucky would ever admit that) the cathedral style, rusted and brown with its beautiful patterns down the sides and sleek rectangular rounded top, the colour a polished brown wood. It was quite marvellous, least thats what Steve's ma kept telling him when she came over to see the newly furnished house._

_______________________

Now, the year 1939, early December, Sam and Bucky are stiffened on the sofa cleaning onto each other under the shared flannel and the radio is still as new as ever, only a couple scratches down the side, its beautifully decorated patterns slightly worn out but the voices clear as ever, hitting every nerve as it echoed through the cold apartment air.

Bucky tucks his head slightly in Sam's under arms, since the kiss they hadn't exactly talked about what was going on between them. Figured it wasn't worth the conversation but more the actions and now here they are, months later cuddled into each others warmth with the stove burning a portion of soup that wasn't nearly enough for the both of them.

"It's fuckin' cold," Bucky mutters, teeth shattering just at the winter air that passes through his breath,

"Quit yappin' and maybe you won't fell so cold," Sam mumbles back but wraps his arms around him nonetheless, cuddling him up close in his arms. The warmth of the Brooklyn apartment serving its right, the red cotton wooled flannel wrapped equally around them as listened attentively to the radio, the same Bob Crosby song on repeat,

 _\- The same old pounding in my heart whenever I think of you_  
And, darling, I think of you  
Day in and day out - 

"Remember that time, you told everyone your pop's was some famous singer," Sam rose his voice, the sound of the radio tuning out as his lips formed a smirk,

Bucky chuckled at the memory, "Told 'em I was the lost child of Glenn Miller,"

It was 1933, sat in English class as Mr Cornwall blabbered on about poetry and the use of it in music and Bucky, who was bored out of his mind decided to tell a story, more a lie but a story nonetheless. 

"What an extraordinary resemblance," Sam mimicked the sound of his high school teachers voice only to earn a laugh from Bucky,

"Fuckin' hell, didn't think they'd actually buy into it,"

"Always wandered how long it took ya to come up with a soppy childhood story,"

Bucky shrugged, smirked a little, "improvisation, buddy"

Sam raised his eyebrows a little but smirked anyway, "Mhm," he said in his sarcastic but loveable tone.

___________________

The dawn of morning just creeping in through the curtains as Sam rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes, blurry vision becoming clear to see Bucky propped up on him, laying calmly at his side as he lay his head onto Sam. Both shirtless as the covers were draped up to their waist, it looked like Bucky had been awake long before Sam,

"Mornin," Sam says, voice croaky from sleep,

Bucky smiles a little, props his head up and looks up at Sam whose head is laid up against the shared pillow, "finally," his blue eyes prop up in excitement just at the fact that Sam's awake. Starting at him, the fact alone that Sam is on his bed, looking absolutely gorgeous in his boxers alone, brown skinned shirtless body shining in the light that was so easy to admire, he can't help but let his smile reach eye to eye. 

"Radio," Sam manages to mumble out,

"Hm?"

"Radio's loud," he groans out, letting his hands fall over his face. The tiredness still clearly visible in Sam's face let alone his voice,

Leaning his arms over Sam's shoulders and extending his fingers, almost long enough to reach the switch of the radio, turning it to its lowest volume so only low whispers could be heard, he doesn't retreat his arm back instead just lays their flat on his stomach on top of Sam, head turned to the side so he has a clear view of Sam's face.

"You gon' stay like that?" Sam asks, peering his eyes through his hands that are still shielding him from view,

"Mhm," Bucky smiles sheepishly. 

"Come 'ere then," Sam rolls his eyes back, smiling sheepishly as Bucky gives in and props his head up to meet Sam's, levelling on top of him as he leans in and pecks him a soft kiss, just as Sam tries to lean in for more, Bucky lets go and raises an eyebrow, shaking his head but smile still on his face,

"Get up, lazy" he mumbles as he jumps out of bed and leaves the room, knowing he left Sam in a state of need and want. 

_____________________

"Me an' Carlos were on about it, last week at work," Bucky's voice propped up as Sam was jotting down notes for his own job,

"Yeah?" Sam asks, equally interested as he is while still looking down at his own paper,

"Compared his wife to that thing, the one where you twist it into pins and all,"

"Screwdriver?"

"That's the one! Him and his mrs got into a fight, said 'you're a tool, bit like a screwdriver,"

"Christ," Sam muttered, unsure wether to laugh at the stupidity or the nerve of it

Bucky cackled up in laughter, "Carlos and I reckon he missed work cuz' they're filin' for a divorce,"

Sam only propped his head up to look clearly at Bucky, sheepish smile on his lips.

"What?" Bucky questioned him,

"You didn't know what a screwdriver was called?" he asks, folding his lips together, sealing back a small laugh, 

And out of the whole conversation, that's what Sam found funny, really? "Leave off," Bucky muttered, lowering his gaze at the floorboards. Earning a smirk from Sam who just tilted Bucky's chin up to give him a soft peck on the lips.

"You're an asshole," Bucky rolls his eyes, kissing him back nonetheless,

"And you're a tool," 

_____________________

Nodding along to the Glenn Miller beat on the radio, Bucky raises his voice from a whisper to humming along to 'Chattanooga Choo Choo' repeatedly, "Dinner in the diner, nothin' could be finer," he bops his head to the tune, "than to have your ham an' eggs in California," he starts using the spoon in his hand as a drumstick. 

"Carolina," Sam corrects him from the living room sofa, 

"What's that?" Bucky stops pretending to be a drummer for a second before he turns to Sam,

"Its _to have your_ _ham an' eggs in Carolina,_ not California," 

"Think I know the beat, Sammy boy. Its California," Bucky shrugs, quite sure of himself as he props up to turn on the radio volume louder,

_\- After a tremendous performance from Ethel Waters showing us her vocals in her hit song, Stormy Weathers, coming up next to show us his hit featuring single, we have the marvellous Glenn Miller, preforming...Chattanooga Choo Choo -_

"Five dollars its Carolina," Sam proposes, listening to the radio carefully. Just waiting to be proved right,

"Deal." Bucky agrees, spitting in his hand and leaning it out to shake Sam's hand, who just spits in his hand foolishly before shaking it back. Palms wet with spit, sealing the deal.

"Swear on my ma's grave!" Sam lays back on the sofa, waiting for the radio to start playing the song.

"Your ma ain't even in her grave yet," Bucky points out, raising a slight eyebrow at him,

"That ain't the point," 

_\- You leave the Pennsylvania station 'bout a quarter to four_  
Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore  
Dinner in the diner, nothin’ could be finer -

Both of them leaning their heads in, ears open to the next coming lyrics. Its only five dollars on the line but their attention is grabbed so easily. Sam puts a finger on Bucky's lip, gesturing him to keep quiet.

_\- then to have your ham an' eggs in Carolina -_

Sam jumps up in excitement, "fuckin' told ya so!" a laugh echoing louder than Glenn Miller as Bucky rolls his eyes as his face turns dissatisfied, staring at Sam whose got a smug look on his face. "Pay up, Barnes. Dollar in the pocket,"

And just as Bucky looks like he's taking five dollars out of his pocket- he jumps up from the sofa, running to the back of the apartment, grabbing the spoon he left behind in motion, using it as a shield as Sam chases from behind, catching up to him as Bucky stands in a defensive position behind the kitchen counter.

"Ya think a spoon is gon' stop me?" Sam smirks as he slowly walks over to the counter, grabbing the spoon off of him, using his other hand to grab Bucky into him from his waist, propping up his eyebrows as Bucky falls easily into his touch. Leaning in for a kiss as he drops the spoon onto the floor, the noise almost shattering but not distracting enough to cancel the kiss.

With their lips still locked, Sam walks backwards as Bucky leads him to the bedroom, still kissing but a smirk is forming on Sam's lips at Bucky's movements, "I still want the five dollars," he murmurs against Bucky's lip, only for Bucky to peck a soft kiss on him before opening the door to his bedroom, grabbing Sam by his hands as they collapse on top of each other on the bed. Sam leans in for a kiss, ruffling his hands into the softness of Bucky's hair, their lips tangled in passion within the second.

"You sure?" Sam asks, voice wary in case of the answer that ushers from Bucky's lips.

He only receives a nod back, propping his head up to look into Sam's brown iris. "Yeah, you?" he swallows back a gulp.

Sam smiles, dimples showing off at either side as he digs his lips into Bucky once more, their hands roaming at each others under shirt, warm and soft to the touch of each others skin as if always made and crafted for each others touch.


	7. Chapter 7

Glasses on, Sam's peering into his notebook, crossing line after lines he tries to perfect his next column on the paper. Bucky, leaned back on the sofa, eyes closed as he lets out a puff of his cigar, listening to the humming sound of the radio.

_\- I'm sure you hate to hear, that I adore you, dear. But grant me, just the same -_

"Sure you hate to hear, that I adore you, dear" Bucky's voice repeats low and whispery as he looks at Sam all love eyed. 

"You gon' get up and help me?" Sam asks, raising an eyebrow and not taking another glance at Bucky's peering blue eyes.

Bucky only shrugs back, looks at the radio before he properly positions himself on the sofa, leaning his head back as his eyes focus on the pale peach ceiling above of him, closing his eyes ready to fall asleep to the sound of Billie Holiday singing,

_\- I'm not entirely to blame for love. You'd be so easy to love, so easy to idolise -_

A sudden screechy sound comes from the radio mid song, quiet and then breaking echoes coming from the sound system as Sam peers his head up from his notebook.

_\- We interrupt this program with breaking news, the Japanese have attacked Pearl Habour, Hawaii -_

Sam's pen drops from his fingers, falling loosely onto the table as thats the only sound that can be heard for that moments silence. Bucky scrambles over to the radio, heart beating in his chest, so close to exploding as he turns up the volume to its loudest set.

_\- President Roosevelt is set to ask congress for its declaration of war on the Japanese, with a hostile attack of this nature, there is no doubt that congress is sure to agree -_

The words turn to bullets, hitting hard in his chest before the thought of enlisting even entered his mind. And that's the exact moment that Bucky could feel his heart sink in his chest. They knew this was coming, America had been sitting on sidelines, offering aid to the war overseas as Germany and Europe were off fighting the battles. The war was bound to catch up with them sooner than later.

"Sam," he whispers, almost too scared to say it any louder.

He hears the shift in movement from Sam as he takes off his glasses and sets them on the table top, brown eyes filling up with an emotion Bucky understood all too well now.

"Sam," he tries again, his voice seeking for comfort. 

Sam only swallows a hard gulp stuck in his throat, lets out a heavy breath he hadn't even realised he was holding, "I best go check on Sarah," he says and his voice is broken to no return.

Is it selfish? Is it selfish that Bucky wanted him to stay right there with him, to hold him in the comfort of his arms? He doesn't say anything, understands the worry that Sam must be going through not knowing anything about his sisters well being in a time like this. He lets him leave, not saying another word at the course at all.

Bucky tries to stay stiff and tough, unable to hold on any longer with nothing to actually hold onto, he runs to the bathroom as he sinks his head into the toilet, vomiting out everything in his gut. Sick in his stomach, head and heart, his knees crash to the floorboards as he uses his sleeve to wipe his mouth. He blinks long and hard, eyelashes falling as panicked sobs escape him, tears falling to the floorboards with him. The worst type of silence overcoming him and the apartment air.

___________________

"Are you scared?" Sam asks one night, because Bucky is shivering against his touch and he's sure that its not the cold weather that causes this type of shaking. 

Bucky's eyelashes fall over on top of him, eyes closing, trying to imagine the days before the war announcement.

He can't.

"Yeah," Bucky sighs out a whisper, voice soft and shaky. He isn't ashamed to admit that the war frightens him to his core, any sane man would be scared.

"Me too," Sam replies, his voice soft compared to the shaky one speaking to him, "we would'a been fools if we weren't," he finishes off. 

____________________

 _\- Within the hour of the president's_ _announcement,_ _officially proclaiming war on the Japanese. Riots causing havoc in the downtown streets of Brooklyn, Manhattan and the Bronx. Police officials urging families to stay in their homes these following nights as looters take the streets, showing their anger at the mention of a war -_

The clock strikes midnight, Bucky is sat alone, waiting for Sam to come home, the last few weeks Sam had always come over to his place instead of his own after he had finished work. Normally knocking excitedly at the door when the clock strikes 7pm. An hour passes, one hour turns to four before Sam is walking in through the door, hands stuffed in his pockets and smell of cigar stuck to his body. Not the bitter nicotine smell that they shared quite often, a different scent. One that devoured the other smells around it, clenching to the fabric of clothes. 

"Where the hell were you?" Bucky asked, raising his voice higher than the radios sound and getting up from his seat to catch a proper look at Sam,

"Downtown, just a bunch'a lads speakin' off," he shrugs off the question, not precisely interested in giving Bucky detail for detail.

"The riots were downtown, the fuck would you go down those ends for?"

Sam sighs, running his hands through his hair. "They had some interesting talk, 'bout enlisting into the war and all,"

"Its a bunch'a lads makin' money off of fake news and you gon' believe the shit they say?" And Bucky's voice is harsh, pinching to the ears. 

Sam only snaps back, his tone a rough one, "its not all shit talk, if you were there-"

"If I was there, I would'a dragged your sorry ass back home!" a shout erupts from Bucky, rough and harsh to the sound of ears, he lets out a sigh, lowering his voice, "you ain't got no business pullin' up in a street like that,"

"You're only chattin' since you want no business with the war," and it sounds like a snark comment, more a statement to Bucky's ears.

A sarcastic belittled laugh comes out from Bucky, "and you do?"

"You would'a liked the points they made, is all I'm saying," Sam's voice low, almost soft. Not quite soft, but almost. 

"Mighty hero act now, ain't it? You never wanted no business in this war either" Bucky's eyes searching for something he doesn't know yet in Sam's brown iris.

"Least I ain't denying it! I'd go marchin' down the enlisting station if I could," and his voice turns back to a harsh tone,

"You ain't a fucking martyr, Sam" 

"Yeah, well I ain't no coward either," and all Sam does is shrug, lowers his gaze and makes his way to the front door, not able to look back at Bucky anymore, slamming the door shut behind him only for Bucky to catch the handle before it closes shut, chasing Sam outside into the cold Brooklyn streets, salt rain water hitting pavement streets, a shattering noise it was like the rain turned to glass, cutting the peacefulness Bucky and Sam once had.

Bucky's footsteps treading through the wet streets, hair soaking as his clothes stuck to his body.

"So, that's where you're gonna leave us?" he screams over at Sam whose hurriedly walking down the Brooklyn streets, his shouts trying to overpower the rain.

"I ain't leavin' shit," he mutters back, voice loud enough but not screaming, not yet anyway.

"Is that not what you're doing now?" And Bucky's voice is stern, anger rising in his screams.

Sam doesn't reply, keeps walking trying his hardest to not just turn and meet with the softness of Bucky's blues but he can't, he doesn't, doesn't even try.

"Sam!" Bucky shout out for him again, the hitting rain harder than before.

"Would've just leave me alone? I'll see you tomorrow," and the sense of annoyance in Sam's voice is clear as day, not that the Brooklyn weather was upholding that. 

"Last time you said that, you left." And it's a statement, too close to the truth it feels like a knife, twisted right in the spot he knows it'd hurt, causing Sam to roughly turn around. March upwards to where Bucky's standing, muscles tense and eyes stubborn in an anger as he's ready to shout, words stuck to the tip of his tongue, realising they're not mad at each other, only taking the anger they had out on each other. 

Standing toe to toe, levelling their heads, rain pouring in between their trapped space and God help them, if it weren't so fucking tensed up in anger and bitter feelings, Bucky would've trapped his lips in between Sam's, instead just using the strength off his hands to push him backwards,

"Go on, hit me!" he pushes him against his chest, "hit me like the fuckin' queer I am!" followed by another thrust backwards, Sam doesn't move from the force, stands his ground and keeps staring into Bucky's broken eyes, "Hit! Me!"

Sam doesn't respond, catches the grip of Bucky's hands with his fists and pulls him closer, turning the push to a hug. Gripping him tightly against him, giving him the comfort he knew he's been waiting for. Trying to tackle his way out of Sam's grasp, pushing Sam's hands away but giving in at the least second.

Melting into Sam's hug, into the strong build of his arms, finally giving in to the touch.

Sam doesn't say anything, words aren't needed anyway.

They know how they feel and whatever comes next, they handle it together. 

War or otherwise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of notes contains spoilers!

There's three letters that come through the apartment door, swiftly landing on the wooden floorboards through the letter box. Two addressed to James Buchanan Barnes, one for Steve Rogers.

Steve opened his first, nervous fingers ripping through the paper. It was a letter from his mother, asking him to come over before the streets got filled up with riots and the trains of soldiers. 

Bucky didn't open his, recognised the formal font, the stamp at the right hand corner of the envelope. Four of the lads from work had already gotten the same letter, Bucky already knew what they were when he stepped foot inside the house.

Slamming the door shut behind him, brown bag seemingly heavy by the way he's holding it, Steve looks up at him,

"Got mail today, two for you," he says and his voice is eager waiting for Bucky's reply.

He doesn't, just lets out a loud sigh and slumps down on the sofa. 

"What's gotten you all balled up?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the frown on Bucky's face.

"Got sacked, Steve." And it doesn't sound like he's torn up about it, almost like he understands why he got let go.

It does make sense, that is when he grabs ahold of the letters addressed to him. 

_'James_ _Buchanan Barnes,_

_Military Selective Services'_

Drafted into the war.

He's not even shocked, the pain in his heart that falls to his stomach just feels numb. Doesn't even bother asking if Steve had gotten the same letter, knows he hasn't. 

No one would dare look twice at the scrawny blonde when it comes to fighting off in the war.

Wonders if Sam had gotten a similar letter, he was pretty built up for his age, healthy as any young man could be. And in a moment the feeling in his heart starts pounding, beating the numbness away and replacing it with the gut wrenching fear that maybe Sam had been drafted too.

____________________

_Senior year, the last week of school, 1936._

_Slouched down in their chairs, Sam and Bucky look bored and exhausted as they peered up at their teacher, Mr Cornwall. Speaking on and on about the importance of education, about what his students wanted to do next. Steve was the only one who sat up, eager and interested in whatever Mr Cornwall had to say._

_"What do you make of your lives? Where do you want to go next? You have the two choices, you start looking for a suitable job, a wage good enough to get you started up or perhaps some of you want to move onto college?"_

_"Wanna head down to the diner afterwards, Sammy?' Bucky raised his eyebrows up in pure mischief, muttering his voice lower to Sam._

_But before Sam could answer back, Cornwall had already started making his way towards Bucky's seat, a look of boredom on his face as he's used to telling Bucky off, isn't even surprised anymore._

_"Have something you want to share with the rest of the class, Mr Barnes?"_

_"Only listenin' to your talk, sir" Bucky winks back, cheeky smile stuck to his face._

_"Then listen."_

_And just as Mr Cornwall is about to head back to the front and carry on with the lesson, Bucky responds once more._

_"That's what I'm doing aren't I?" he shrugs, eyes peering up with no care in the world._

_"You'll catch yourself a beatin' if you don't shut up." Sam glared at Bucky, voice warning._

_Cornwall lets out a sigh, heavy in annoyance but look in his eyes stern and cold to the brink. "Leave the classroom,"_

_And its not like Bucky's going to fight against that. He swings his bag on his shoulders, looks back at Sam, eyes in hope that he'd follow him out._

_"Jesus christ, you're lucky its the last day," Sam mutters back, trying to waver a smile back at Cornwall but his face is too cold to rekindle back the gesture._

_"Stevie?" Bucky asks, it'd be a miracle if Steve had gotten up as well._

_He doesn't, just glares at his best friends in disapproval of their movement and stays still in his seat. Leaving Bucky and Sam running out the school and into the front streets, bunking the last class they had._

_"What'd ya reckon is gonna happen to us?" Bucky asks, taking a chug off of the liquor he had been saving in his bag all along._

_"Steve's gon' become president, remember?" Sam smirks, snatching the bottle off of him._

_"I mean with us, y'know we ain't goin' college for shit," Bucky's tone a little too serious for Sam's comfort._

_"Hell do I know, Barnes." Sam mutters, passing the bottle back._

_Bucky had constantly been asking Sam what was going to happen to them since they were teenagers, maybe a small part of him knew. Too afraid to admit to himself, hope he'd find the comfort in Sam's answer._

______________________

He doesn't see Sam after that night, doesn't even hear from him. 

Figures it'd be best not too, how does he even start a conversation where he tells him he's being sent off to war. Being stripped of his freedom, his right to choose, not matter how much strength it looked like he had on the outside, he didn't feel like he had nearly half of that mentally or emotionally. 

Spends his days thinking about the moments before all of this happened, before the sound of a radio shook them to their core of never mending. Maybe he should write to Sam? Stop by his house? _Fuck, he's right in my grasp and I can't even speak to him._ Bucky's train of thoughts rambled on, unable to think of anything else.

_Sam_

_Sam_

_Sam_

And the name sounds so sweet to him, maybe if he said it enough times he'd be there with him. 

___________________

One of the days, Sam does come back to him.

Not in the way he wants, but he's with him nonetheless.

They're laid on the bed, cuddled up under the blankets, Sam spooning Bucky as he gravitated in his touch. The cold winter air had nothing on the warmth of them being this close. 

"Sam..." Bucky whispers, hands intertwined in Sam's fingers,

"Yeah?" he whispers back, 

Bucky swallows back a small gulp in his throat, realises the second he says the words stuck at the tip of his tongue the moment is gone forever. He just longs for the soft tone that always managed to come out of his lips, the one that got his heart racing an uncountable amount of times, the glisten in his eyes, the foolish grin and snarky comments. 

"I've been drafted," he whispers, scared that Sam will let go of the touch, scared it'll erupt into an unwanted argument. 

It doesn't, Sam just holds him tighter. Breathing softly against the back of Bucky's neck while planting a soft kiss. Maybe he should say something, he thinks. But any words said will turn to dust the second he breathes them out. 

Bucky doesn't care for words anymore, just the comfort and warmth of Sam's touch is enough. 

____________________

**Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 107th infantry.**

Sam reads the paper over and over again, words glued to his mind even when he closes his eyes its as if he can hear them. 

He had a plan, that he'd go back up the Bronx check on his sister one last time, go back home.

Home to Bucky. 

That they'd move far away, build a house by the lake, tend to some rabbits. Just like the book they were reading. It was a plan, even if he knew it wasn't going to work, it was still a plan. 

"I'll be back," Bucky smiles at both him and Steve, a smile that they can easily see the pain through. He nods, still smiling but blinking away his tears, "Just wait for me here, till I do"

The words hurt, they hurt more than Bucky will ever know but if hope was all they had left, then they'd hold onto it just as they held onto each other. 

"I'll see you soon," Sam smiles back, trying his hardest to keep it as secure as possible even if he doesn't know when soon is or if soon ever will be.

He hugs Bucky, tight and close, so tight he almost forgets the world around him. Tries his hardest to not let a tear fall from the brown of his iris, he pulls away a little, letting blue and brown eyes mix again once more. 

"Love you, Wilson." he smiles and it's the same cheeky smile Sam is so used to being greeted with,

"Love you too, Buchanan Barnes."

And if it were only them there then he would've pushed their lips together, just to show him how much he meant it but for now words will be enough. 

It's not long before the train comes, steam polluting the air as soldiers make their way on board, some waving goodbyes they didn't know would be there last. 

"He'll be back," Steve reassures Sam,

But that wasn't the problem. 

"I know," Sam smiles back, a wrinkle in his eyes that maybe he didn't believe it so much. 

Sam knew Bucky would be back, no doubt about it, trusted his instinct on that more than hope itself.

The train departs, soldiers screaming their goodbyes to crying family and friends. Sam swallowed back a gulp, stuffed his hands in his pocket to feel the roughness of the paper he'd kept hidden for the past weeks. 

**Samuel Thomas Wilson, U.S Air Force**

The problem wasn't Bucky leaving, it was Bucky coming back when Sam was already gone. 

______________________

_\- It is a solemn day for the United States as we said goodbye to our soldiers once again, standing tall and brave as they protect their country. We pray they'll see out the war until they get a safe journey back home -_

______________________

**_James Buchanan Barnes, March 10th 1917 - December 1944_ **

**_Samuel Thomas Wilson, September 23rd 1917 - unknown_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so long, I've finally uploaded the 1940s pre war years, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes.  
> F I N A L L Y finished it! Considering this was an AU I wasn't intending on sticking to what happens to Bucky in CA: the first Avenger but yes, Bucky does end up passing away which is up to you the readers to decide how and as for Sam, his fate is a mystery to us as it is to Bucky. 
> 
> Most radio segments I used were inspired by actual events that had been featured on the radio and whenever money is involved I tried to be as accurate as possible to how money was handled during that era. 
> 
> www.bntraaca.org/slang-of-the-1920s for all the slang and phrases used. 
> 
> Thank you for even reaching up to this point, a huge amount of thanks and I hope y'all enjoyed x


End file.
